


Like I'm Living at the Edge of the World

by transdimensional_void



Series: I Know You Better Than You Fake It [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 90's Music, Angst, Arguments, First Time, Goth!Dan, Heavy Metal, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Nerd!phil, Sex, Teenagers, mentions of disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:42:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5175362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transdimensional_void/pseuds/transdimensional_void
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Goth!Dan makes nerd!Phil feel like he’s living at the edge of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like I'm Living at the Edge of the World

Phil woke to find Daniel’s sleeping face only inches from his own.

 

For a moment, he was confused. Was this another dream, his own imagination tantalizing him with a ghost Daniel lying in bed beside him? But as his brain worked its way up to full speed again, he remembered the night before, coming back from the party, and climbing into bed with the other boy and slowing drifting off to sleep side by side in the darkness.

 

This was real. It was all real.

 

Daniel’s naked face looked so pink and calm as he slept, lashes lying dark against the lilac smudges beneath his eyes. His breath was just audible as he drew it in and out, in and out through his nose.

 

Phil smiled slowly, thinking to himself that he could probably just lie there forever watching his boyfriend sleep. After a moment, though, he started becoming intensely aware of his own body — the disgusting morning taste in his mouth, the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. How must his hair look, all tangled from the pillows? And he probably had creases all over his face… He’d slept next to friends at sleepovers before, but being in bed beside Daniel didn’t feel like that at all.

 

So he very, very carefully lifted the duvet and slid out from underneath it, and he crept over to the door, eased it open, and stepped through until he was at last safe out in the hallway.

 

After a productive ten minutes or so in the bathroom, he sneaked back into Daniel’s room and slid beneath the covers again only to find Daniel staring up at him with blurry eyes.

 

“Where did you go?” he rasped in his hoarse morning voice, the tiniest of creases appearing between his eyes.

 

“Just to the bathroom,” Phil murmured, wriggling back down beneath the duvet until he was face-to-face with Daniel again. “Good morning.”

 

“ ‘morning,” Daniel replied, leaning over to press a kiss against Phil’s lips. When he pulled back again his frown had deepened. “You’re all minty,” he complained.

 

Phil nibbled at his lower lip a bit.

 

“Yeah, I, er, brushed my teeth while I was in there.”

 

Daniel closed his eyes and shook his head, lips curling up in a tiny, amused smile.

 

“I do know that you’re human, Phil,” he told him when he had opened his eyes again. There was a pause, and then he sat up and said, “I’ll be right back.”

 

When he had gone, Phil rolled over onto his back and stared up at the black ceiling. The pillows and the sheets and the duvet and the air all around him smelled of Daniel. A tight, hot sensation rippled through his abdomen as he breathed the scent in.

 

The door opened and closed again, and then the bed dipped under Daniel’s weight, and Daniel crawled over on top of Phil, planting a knee on either side of his torso. He bent, crisp strands of his hair brushing against Phil’s cheeks as he placed a kiss against the warm pulse point beneath Phil’s left ear, then shifted just enough to place another kiss at the same spot on Phil’s right side. Phil caught a tiny whiff of mint as Daniel moved past his face. Then he pulled back for just long enough to meet Phil’s eyes, and the tension in Phil’s abdomen drew even tighter.

 

Daniel bent down and Phil opened his mouth to meet Daniel’s, and he felt the other boy’s tongue and his lips and his fingers as they crept into Phil’s hair.

 

A moment later, Daniel drew back again, and even though Phil thought he knew what was happening, he had to ask, just to be sure.

 

“Do you want to have sex now?”

 

Daniel’s lips twitched into a slow, shy smile. He nodded.

 

“Yeah. Do you?”

 

“Yeah,” Phil answered, very aware all at once of his blood pulsing in his chest and his ears and his abdomen and even down to the very tips of his toes.

 

“Okay. Just a second,” Daniel murmured, dropping a kiss beside his mouth before disappearing again. Phil didn’t try to stop him. There was no need to rush it. They had all morning.

 

A moment later, the music started playing, a faint crescendo of chimes suddenly swallowed by slow, sweet synth chords, and then Daniel was there again, sitting back against his thighs and staring down at him.

 

“Hi,” he said.

 

“Hi,” Phil grinned back. It dawned on him as they stared at each other that Daniel had no more idea how to start this than he did. Before he let himself think about it too much, he reached up and took a hold of Daniel’s shoulders and pulled him down, allowing his hands to slide around to the other boy’s back as their lips met.

 

They kissed throughout most of the first song, hands roaming here and there, feeling each other out and warming each other up. The second song had already begun before Phil dared to reach for the hem of Daniel’s shirt, but once it was off, Daniel’s fingers were pulling at the fabric of Phil’s shirt almost immediately. Phil closed his eyes and let the melancholy guitar riffs wash over him as Daniel’s fingertips trailed down his bare chest.

 

Then he felt Daniel’s lips warming his ear.

 

“I want to feel you,” he whispered.

 

Phil opened his eyes to see Daniel sitting back again, hands waiting at the waistband of Phil’s pajama bottoms. Phil gave a little nod, barely able to breathe, and then he was helping Daniel get him out of his pajamas and then his boxers. It was Daniel’s turn next, and then they were both naked, and barely anything at all had happened yet, but Phil wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

 

He was letting Daniel take charge now, partly because he seemed to have a better idea of what he was doing but also partly because Phil figured he was less likely to hurt him that way.

 

Daniel was still crouched above him, black hair obscuring the sides of his face, eyes fixed on Phil’s with an expression that Phil wanted to tattoo permanently on the insides of his eyelids.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and Daniel leant down and got lost in Phil’s mouth for a while.

 

They were still in the middle of the second song when Daniel moved away and opened his bedside drawer to pull out one of the condoms they’d bought the other day and the small bottle of lube that Phil had only very recently learned lived in the same drawer.

 

“Are you sure?” Phil asked because there was no longer any doubt in his mind that he wanted to be inside of his boyfriend right now, immediately, and he wanted Daniel to be just as certain.

 

“Yes,” Daniel laughed a little as he took Phil’s hand and then wrapped his fingers around the bottle for him.

 

He had to walk Phil through what to do this time too, but they took things nice and slow, and it wasn’t long before Phil had the hang of things and Daniel was lying back with his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face.

 

The fourth song was just beginning when Daniel finally told him he was ready. He helped Phil roll the condom on, just like he’d learned in health class, and then he climbed on top of him and, though Phil almost felt that he must still be dreaming, a few moments later he was actually inside of him. It was insane how many different sensations were assaulting his brain all at once — the luxurious darkness of Daniel’s eyes as they met his, the heat of the fireworks exploding within his chest, the indescribable pleasure of being inside the boy he was in love with, the plaintive notes of the song that filled the room and his ears.

 

Daniel bent down and kissed him on the lips and then Phil came, and _crap that was too fast, wasn’t it?_ But Daniel was so lost in the moment that he didn’t even seem to notice, and Phil decided to just keep going for as long as he could, which turned out to be plenty long enough for Daniel, and then Phil ended up coming a second time in the process.

 

The album was barely half over by the time they were finished. Phil had pulled the condom off, tied it and tossed it in the bin beside Daniel’s bed, while Daniel had simply lain there where he’d fallen beside Phil with his eyes closed, chest heaving, and lips forming a lazy smile. When Phil crawled back onto the bed, Daniel rolled over and half-covered Phil’s body with his own.

 

“You came twice didn’t you, you bastard?” he muttered into Phil’s ear.

 

A wave of embarrassment washed over Phil, which made him laugh because, what a ridiculous time to feel embarrassed.

 

“You just felt really good,” Phil protested. Then, “Was it, erm, I mean, did you like it?”

 

“Mm-hmm,” Daniel sighed, and Phil thought he sounded half-asleep already. That was fine with Phil, though. He could barely keep his eyes open himself.

 

 

 

They were both wakened sometime later by the sudden silence in the room after the last track of the album had faded out. Daniel was still lying on top of him, which kind of felt good but was also kind of uncomfortably hot. He shifted a little, trying to think of how to politely ask him to get off.

 

“I think we need another shower,” were the first words out of Daniel’s mouth when his eyes popped open about a minute after Phil’s. “You’re all sweaty.”

 

“You are too,” Phil retorted as Daniel rolled off him. Free at last, he sat up, and as he stretched his arms over his head, his stomach let out a loud rumble.He tossed the other boy a sheepish look. “Can we have breakfast after that?”

 

Daniel reached a finger over and poked Phil just to the right of his belly button.

 

“I think we’d better. Sounds like you’re on the verge of starvation there.”

 

They made their shower quick this time, and Phil put his barely-worn shirt and shorts back on from the day before. After they’d fixed two bowls of cereal, Phil made as if to head into the family room, but Daniel motioned him back over to the stairs. Was it weird, Phil asked himself, that they’d progressed this far in their relationship without him ever setting foot in most of the rooms of Daniel’s house?

 

Upstairs, Daniel flicked on the TV, and they sat on his bed and munched their cereal in front of an old episode of _Friends_ that Phil had already seen at least twice. He still laughed at most of the jokes, though.

 

Phil had volunteered to take their empty bowls back down to the kitchen, where he was dutifully washing them in the sink when the phone on the kitchen wall started ringing. He paused in the middle of scrubbing one of the spoons, wondering if he should try to answer or just let it go to the answering machine.

 

“Phil! Can you see who that is?” came Daniel’s voice from the top of the stairs. So Phil grabbed a tea towel and quickly dried his hands before lifting the wireless phone from its cradle and pushing the answer button.

 

“Hello?” he said, hesitating for a moment as he tried to decide if he should say “Howell Residence” or something like that to reassure the person on the other end that they’d called the right number.

 

“Hey, who’s this?” came the voice from the other end. He’d hesitated too long.

 

“This is Phil. Were you calling for, erm, the Howell family?” Oh god. He was just making it worse.

 

“Oh, hi, Phil. This is Mick. I think we met last night?”

 

“Oh…yeah…” Would this be a good time to remind him that he’d nearly lost his dinner all over Phil’s Converse?

 

“Can I talk to Daniel?”

 

“Let me check.”

 

He held the phone against his shirt, hoping that would muffle any sounds from his end, and then made his way up the stairs to Daniel’s room. His boyfriend was stretched out on his stomach on the bed, flipping through channels looking for something new to watch. He looked up when he heard Phil approaching.

 

“It’s Mick,” Phil told him from the doorway.

 

Daniel nodded, turned off the TV and then held out his hand. So Phil walked over and placed the phone in it. He stood and watched as Daniel put the phone up to his ear and said, “Hey,” not sure if he should leave and let them have a private conversation. Daniel answered the question for him, though, by motioning to the empty space on the bed beside him as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Phil climbed up and lay down on his back so that he could more easily admire Daniel’s face while he talked.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Daniel was saying to whatever Mick was telling him. “I know you didn’t.”

 

There was a long silence, which Mick was presumably filling with some sort of explanation or excuse or apology. Phil kept a close watch on his boyfriend’s expression, but it remained decidedly neutral. Daniel was still facing the blank television screen, though his eyes didn’t seem to be focused on it. He hadn’t put on any makeup yet today, and Phil was noticing how the lack of eyebrows made all of his expressions softer and more difficult to read.

 

“It’s okay, just, you know, try not to do it again?” Daniel said at long last. And then, “Okay. Yeah, yeah, I will. See you later then.”

 

When Daniel had clicked the hang up button, he dropped the phone on the floor at the end of the bed and then rolled over and buried his face in Phil’s chest. He let out a soft groan.

 

“Did he apologize?” Phil asked, thinking that if he hadn’t he might have a word or two to say to him the next time he saw him.

 

“Yeah,” Daniel mumbled into Phil’s shirt. “He knows better.” One arm snaked up and around Phil’s waist and squeezed him closer. “They all know better, but sometimes…”

 

Phil raised a hand and slid it around the back of Daniel’s neck, his fingertips lightly grazing the fine hairs there.

 

“Sometimes what?”

 

He felt warm breath against his chest as Daniel sighed.

 

“That feels really nice,” he murmured after a while, and Phil’s hand fell still. There was a quickening in his chest, but this time it wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. It was frustration, maybe even a bit of anger. Was Daniel really changing the subject again? He bit his lip to hold in a bitter comment.

 

“You stopped,” Daniel complained, raising his head to look at Phil. When he saw his expression, he frowned and moved just a tiny bit back. “What?”

 

“I just—“ Phil started and then stopped, afraid of what he was about to say. But it was too late now. Daniel was staring at him with an air of guarded expectation, and he knew he had to give some explanation. Okay then. Okay, then he would just say it. “I just wish you would tell me things. You know, tell me what you’re really thinking. You’re always changing the subject.”

 

Daniel’s forehead was all wrinkled up, and his eyes looked stormy. He pulled his arm off of Phil, wrapped it around himself instead and then moved even further away.

 

“So, what? Me telling you about my weird-ass phobia and my alcoholic father wasn’t enough?” He was speaking quickly, his words made indistinct by the speed with which he said them. “I have to tell you everything now? You need some kind of inventory of all my hopes and fears?”

 

Phil sat up then, as lying down didn’t seem the proper position for having this kind of conversation. He hadn’t thought that what he was asking was such a big deal. Less than an hour ago, Daniel apparently trusted Phil enough to let him put his dick inside him, but now he was offended by Phil wanting him to be a little more open with his feelings? What part of that made sense? He propped himself up on his elbows, watching Daniel’s face and trying to understand, trying so hard to understand.

 

“I just want to help,” he stuttered, feeling like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs for a full breath. “I mean, if I can, if there’s anything I can do—“

 

“I’m not some fucking project, Phil,” the other boy said between clenched teeth, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and closing his eyes. “You don’t need to, like, fix me or something.”

 

Phil just stared at him. He didn’t know what to say. Maybe there wasn’t anything he _could_ say to Daniel right now that wouldn’t just make him angrier.

 

“I think I should go,” Phil said. Maybe if he gave Daniel time to calm down, they could have a more reasonable discussion about this later.

 

“Fine, get the fuck out,” Daniel muttered, rolling over so his back was facing Phil. “No one’s forcing you to be here.”

 

Phil wanted to groan or punch something or maybe cry. He hadn’t meant it like that. He knew Daniel knew he hadn’t meant it like that. But there was no winning move here now. If he left, Daniel would think it meant he didn’t want to be here. If he stayed, Daniel would just be angry and yell at him more.

 

He didn’t know what to do, so he just did nothing. He just sat there at the end of Daniel’s bed and stared at the curve of his back that heaved with his every breath, while a thick silence settled all around them.

 

They stayed there like that for exactly twenty-seven minutes. Phil knew because he watched each minute click by on Daniel’s bedside digital alarm clock. And every second of every minute his brain was yelling at him to do something or say something or at least leave so he could just be free of this suffocating silence. But he didn’t think he could do any of those things without hurting Daniel, so he let him be in charge again.

 

Finally, after the glowing green numbers had changed for the twenty-seventh time, Daniel rolled over again and looked at Phil. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something, but then his eyes started filling up with tears, and he closed his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut and just shook his head.

 

So Phil lay down beside him again and put his arms around him, and the other boy clung to his shirt and sobbed into it while Phil smoothed his palms over his back and tried to make comforting noises.

 

After a while, Phil heard Daniel mumble something into his shirt that he couldn’t understand.

 

“What was that?” He almost didn’t dare to ask, though it seemed like Daniel’s anger had passed.

 

Daniel lifted his head just enough to be heard.

 

“I said, ‘You’re still here.’” Daniel’s voice was scratchy, but it didn’t sound like he was crying anymore.

 

“Yeah,” Phil murmured back, “you seemed like you didn’t want me to leave.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

Daniel laid his head back against Phil’s chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I yelled at you.”

 

Phil hesitated, but he figured that if they couldn’t talk about it now they were never going to be able to talk about it.

 

“Why did you yell at me?” he asked, continuing to rub his hand up and down his boyfriend’s back, hoping it would reassure him that he wasn’t angry with him, only confused.

 

“It just feels like…” Daniel started, his voice soft. “Like if I tell you one thing, I’ll have to tell you everything. And just…”

 

He rolled away from Phil a bit then, raising himself on one elbow so that he could meet Phil eye to eye. His cheeks were all splotchy and the area around his eyes was puffy and red, but Phil still kind of thought he looked beautiful, the same way he’d thought he looked beautiful when he was still asleep, with red lines from the pillows across his cheek and smudges of old eyeliner at his lash line.

 

“Don’t you have things that you’re afraid of?” Daniel spoke in hushed tones, like someone might in a church or a cemetery. “I mean, not normal stuff like snakes or whatever, but…like, things you’re so terrified of that you can’t even say them? Or…like, things you know you shouldn’t be thinking about but you are anyway?”

 

Phil let his eyes drift down to Daniel’s fingers, which had let go of his shirt and were now clutching the duvet instead. He noticed that some of the black had chipped off the edges of a couple of his nails. He was trying to think of what he was most afraid of… Failing all of his exams and not getting into uni? But that didn’t seem likely… Maybe his parents dying in some horrible accident. That would be awful, but it didn’t seem real enough to truly terrify him. Why should he worry about something that probably wouldn’t even happen? He raised his eyes to Daniel’s again, seeing the way they studied his face with so much trepidation.

 

“I guess I don’t,” he said at last, “I mean, not really. I know that bad things will probably happen to me at some point, but there’s not a lot I can do to stop them… So, I just don’t worry about them, I guess.”

 

Daniel let out a huff of breath at that and then flopped down on the bed and covered his eyes with both arms.

 

“That must be nice,” he muttered. “Being able to think that way.”

 

Phil didn’t have a response for that, so he just lay there and kept watching his boyfriend.

 

“I have to go soon,” Daniel said after a while, though he was still flat on his back hiding beneath his arms. “We have practice this afternoon.”

 

Normally, Phil would have taken that as a cue to start saying his good-byes, but today… There was something about Daniel’s voice, an unsteadiness, a tremor of uncertainty, that made Phil wonder if he maybe still needed him.

 

“You know, I’ve never seen you play,” Phil tried. Daniel stayed quiet, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath his Life is Peachy t-shirt. So Phil went on, “I mean, I’d love to come to one of your shows sometime—”

 

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Daniel answered almost at once, his tone firm, though his voice was muffled by his arms.

 

“Why do you say that?” Phil tried to keep the question as neutral as possible. He wasn’t trying to start another fight. He just wanted to hear what was going on inside his boyfriend’s head.

 

“There’s no way I can look after you while I’m up on stage,” the other boy responded, still hiding his face, and then added, “I can barely look after myself.”

 

Phil opened his mouth to object to this notion of him being someone who needed looking after, but then he reminded himself that he really didn’t want to fight with Daniel again, at least not today. So instead he said,

 

“Okay, then…can I come watch you play at practice?”

 

That finally got Daniel to move his arms and look at Phil again. His eyes were narrowed as though he suspected Phil wasn’t being serious.

 

“Really?”

 

Phil nodded.

 

“It’s very loud,” Daniel warned, “and long. We’ll probably be there until late at night.”

 

“I’ll have to call my parents and tell them, but…it’s okay with me,” Phil shrugged.

 

The other boy stared at him a moment longer and then, without warning, sat up, hopped off the bed and walked over to his dresser. He dug around in various boxes that were spread across the top of it, muttering to himself under his breath as he did so, until he at last found what he was looking for. Then he walked over to where Phil still sat at the end of the bed and held out a closed fist toward him.

 

“Here.”

 

Phil opened his palm, and Daniel dropped a pair of foam ear plugs in them.

 

“I keep a stash of these for when I go to concerts and things. You’ll need them,” he said with a grin.

 

“Don’t you wear ear plugs for performances and practice too?” Phil asked, suddenly worried that Daniel might not be taking proper care of his hearing. What if he went deaf at a young age and couldn’t play music anymore? Or maybe he would be like Beethoven, playing music that he would never get to hear…

 

“Yeah, but the ones I wear are a different kind,” Daniel shrugged and walked back over to his dresser. “When you’re the one playing, you need more of the sound to come through.”

 

“Oh,” Phil said, staring at the two orange bits of foam for a moment before stowing them in his pocket. He hadn’t realized there even was more than one kind of ear plugs.

 

Daniel still needed time to put on his makeup, so Phil took the phone downstairs and called his own phone number. Just as he was putting the receiver up to his ear, he passed the archway leading into the family room and, with a slightly guilty glance up the stairs, he gave in to the temptation to take a look inside.

 

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting — piles of empty beer bottles? Daniel’s dad passed out on the sofa? An empty room? It actually just looked like a normal family room in anyone’s house. There was a sofa and a TV and a shelf with a few books and a lot of pictures. He was making his way over to examine these more closely when the ringing on the other end stopped and someone picked up.

 

“Hello?” It was his mum.

 

“Hi, Mum, it’s Phil.”

 

“Oh, hello, dearest,” she said. “I was wondering when we were going to hear from you. It’s almost lunch time, you know.”

 

Her tone held just a hint of admonishment, and Phil grimaced to himself. He should’ve called them earlier. Well, he told himself, they’d made him give them Daniel’s number (for emergencies, they’d said), so they could’ve called themselves if they’d been really worried.

 

“We kind of slept in,” Phil said, which was sort of true. He’d stopped in front of the shelf now and was examining an old photo of Daniel with a man and a woman who he guessed were his mum and dad. Daniel looked to be about eight or nine years old. They were standing out of doors, maybe in someone’s front garden, and they were all smiling.

 

“How was your party last night?” came his mother’s voice again.

 

“It was…okay. We actually didn’t stay that late.” Wait. Crap. If he hadn’t been focused on the photograph instead of the conversation, he probably would not have told her that… He stepped away from the shelf. “Anyway,” he rushed on before she could start wondering why they’d slept so late if they’d come home early, “Daniel’s band has practice this afternoon, and he said I could come watch them play… I probably wouldn’t be home until after dinner time, though.”

 

There was a pause on the other end, and Phil took the opportunity to hurry back out into the corridor before Daniel could come downstairs and catch him snooping.

 

“You know your exams are coming up very soon, Philip,” his mother said finally. “You’ve been going out quite a lot lately.”

 

He tried not to roll his eyes. He was going to do fine on his exams, and they both knew it.

 

“I promise I’ll stay in and study this week, Mum,” he said. “They’re still a couple of weeks away.”

 

“I know they are,” she replied in her “I’m-your-mum-and-I-know-everything-you-know-and-more” tone, “and I trust you to do your best.”

 

“Yes, Mum,” and he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling up toward the ceiling now. “So I’ll see you later tonight?”

 

“All right,” she answered, and he could tell she was refraining from saying more, “I won’t hold dinner for you then.”

 

“Thanks,” he said.

 

“I love you, Phil,” she told him.

 

He cast a glance back toward the stairs. Still no sign of Daniel.

 

“I love you too, Mum,” he mumbled. “Bye.”

 

He hung up before she could send him on any further guilt trips, took the phone back to its cradle in the kitchen, and then hurried back upstairs to find Daniel sat on the floor with a bunch of black nylon bags spread all around him. It took Phil a moment to figure out that he was packing up his drums.

 

“Why didn’t I just learn guitar?” Daniel was grumbling as he zipped a small drum into a bag. “Guitars are so portable.”

 

“Why _did_ you decide to learn drums?” Phil asked as he walked over and sat down near Daniel. “Can I help?”

 

“Yeah, here, put this in that bag,” Daniel said, handing him a cymbal and pointing at a small, circular bag. “And, I don’t know. Drummers just seemed cool to me as kid? Learning drumming seemed like a fun challenge?” He shrugged and then stood so he could start working on getting one of the bigger drums into its bag. “I used to learn piano too, back in Berkshire, but I stopped after we moved here.”

 

Daniel hadn’t talked much about his life before he’d moved north, so Phil had concluded that it was another sensitive subject for him. Since he’d brought it up now, though, Phil wondered if it might be okay to ask about it…

 

“Why did you stop?”

 

Daniel was struggling to get the biggest drum — was that the bass drum? Phil couldn’t quite remember — into its bag, so Phil set down the now neatly-packed cymbal and walked over to give him a hand.

 

When they’d at last zipped the drum safely into its bag, Daniel stood upright again and answered Phil’s question.

 

“The lessons cost money, and my dad couldn’t hold down a job here, so,” he shrugged.

 

“That sucks,” Phil said and Daniel just shrugged again.

 

When they’d finished packing up all the drums and their accompanying stands, Phil stood looking down at the pile of black bags and frowned.

 

“We aren’t going on the bus with all of these, right?”

 

“Nope,” Daniel shook his head and tossed Phil a black-lipped grin from where he sat on the floor next to all the bags. “Ian should be along eventually to pick us up in his van.”

 

Oh, Ian, right.

 

“Do I, erm, need to change clothes then?” Phil asked, glancing down at his shirt. “Or, like, do you need to put makeup on me—“

 

“You’re fine like that,” Daniel assured him. “They probably won’t even notice what you’re wearing, honestly. Like, our practices are pretty serious. You’re probably going to get bored pretty quickly…”

 

It kind of sounded like Daniel was trying to talk him out of going after all, but before Phil could respond, his stomach let out a loud growl, and he blushed.

 

“You really worked up an appetite today,” Daniel teased, rising from the floor at last and walking over to where Phil stood. He bent his face near Phil’s, and Phil closed his eyes, and when he felt Daniel’s lips warm against his, something that had been tight in his chest eased.

 

He hadn’t known he’d been waiting for that, for Daniel to kiss him again and let him know things were okay between them, but he realized now that he had been, almost since Daniel had first snapped at him earlier. When the other boy would have pulled away, Phil brought his hands up and drew him closer. He could taste Daniel on his tongue and smell the scent of his cologne and the cigarette he’d smoked while Phil was downstairs on the phone, and he could hear his breathing, made heavy and irregular by the long kiss. Phil’s body was flooded with so much relief that his eyes actually started stinging, and without meaning to, he made a little whimper in the back of his throat.

 

Daniel did pull away then, a searching look in his eyes.

 

“You know I really meant it,” he murmured, “when I said last night that I loved you.”

 

The moisture in Phil’s eyes reached critical mass and started spilling down his cheeks.

 

“I meant it too,” he said, reaching up with one hand to rub the wetness from his cheeks. 

 

“I’m really fucking sorry that I yelled at you, okay?” Daniel said, his right hand sliding into Phil’s left one that still hung free at his side. “It was a stupid thing to do.”

 

Phil nodded. He agreed that Daniel had been wrong to yell at him, but it didn’t seem right to let him be the only one apologizing.

 

“I’m sorry if I pushed you too much,” he whispered, though it was difficult to get the words out around the burning in his throat.

 

Daniel stepped closer, into Phil’s arms again, and laid his cheek against Phil’s shoulder — gingerly, so he wouldn’t wipe off any of his makeup on Phil’s shirt.

 

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his lips near enough to Phil’s ear that his breath tickled. “I want to tell you everything…eventually. I’m just not ready yet. Is that okay with you?”

 

“Yeah,” Phil said, but then his stomach rumbled again, and Daniel let out a breath of laughter through his nose that ruffled the little hairs at the back of Phil’s neck.

 

“All right already. We’ll find you some food.”

 

They cooked pasta together and then ate it sitting on the kitchen floor, which is where they were when a knock sounded at the front door. Daniel was still scarfing down the last bite of his lunch, so Phil offered to go answer it.

 

When he opened the door, there was Ian, posed on the front steps like he’d just been caught modeling his faded, old shirt with the cut-off sleeves. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Phil.

 

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, nodding as though mildly impressed.

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Phil agreed, stepping back to allow him into the corridor.

 

“Nice glasses, nerd,” Ian tossed at him as he passed.

 

Phil ducked his head, not meeting the man’s eyes as he shut the door. That was right. He’d been wearing his contacts when he met Ian last night…and a ton of makeup…and much cooler clothes…

 

He heard a scuffling sound behind him, and when he turned, his eyes were met by the startling sight of Daniel with one fist raised in front of Ian’s face.

 

“Call him that again, and I’ll break your fucking jaw, no matter how pretty it is,” Daniel was growling.

 

“Whoa, whoa, sorry, mate!” Ian protested with hands raised in the air.

 

“Daniel, it’s fine,” Phil tried to assure him, stepping closer and reaching out a conciliatory hand. “I know I’m a nerd.”

 

“You’re the biggest bloody nerd I’ve ever met,” Daniel responded without lowering his fist. “But he still isn’t allowed to call you that.”

 

Phil ducked his head again, though this time it was to hide a smile.

 

After Daniel had wrung an apology from Ian, which Phil pretended he wasn’t kind of giddy about, the three of them packed the drum kit in the back of what Ian explained was a 1983 Dodge something or other van. Phil wasn’t really paying attention. Mostly he just noticed that it was a hideous brown color and the interior had a musty smell. Daniel sat in the front passenger seat while Phil sat in the only back seat that hadn’t been removed to make space for instruments and tried not to feel like a little kid being driven somewhere by his parents.

 

As soon as they were on the road — back to Mick’s house apparently — Ian and Daniel started talking band stuff. Phil tried to listen at first, hoping he would catch some conversation about the producer in Manchester, but it was all “maybe we should just cut the third measure after the bridge” and “yeah, let’s change those to 16th notes” and after a while Phil zoned out completely.

 

It was a much quicker trip to Mick’s by van than it had been by bus, so Phil was pulled out of his reverie much sooner than he’d been expecting.

 

When they pulled up outside the house, Mick was there at the passenger side of the van almost at once, another apology for Daniel about the previous night spilling from his lips. The goth boy just waved him off and told him to help unload the drums.

 

Phil trailed behind the others as they started pulling black bags from the back of the van, and eventually Ian handed him a cymbal and one of the smaller drums to carry. He couldn’t help staring a bit at the way the vocalist’s arm muscles rippled as he lifted the ungainly bass drum all by himself.

 

“Hey,” Daniel muttered from his other side and elbowed him slightly in the ribs.

 

“Oh, er,” Phil said, dropping his eyes down to the drum in his hands. “Gotta—“

 

And then he hurried into the house behind Ian and Mick. It was much quieter and (minimally) cleaner than it had been the night before, and now that the living room was no longer crowded with people, Phil could see it was actually a large room decorated with about a billion band posters. In one corner was a modestly-sized TV with an N64 and an SNES tucked into a shelf beneath it. So that’s how Daniel had learned to play…

 

He followed the others into a room just off the living room where they found a girl crouched down beside an amp, cradling a guitar in her arms. She had her ear bent toward the speaker and she was very slowly turning one of the dials. Phil realized he’d met her last night. Laura…? Or…Lisa? Lauren?

 

“Liza,” Mick said, and she looked up. “Mind getting the last of the stuff from the van.”

 

She nodded and then stood, unhooking the guitar from around her neck and then settling it ever so gently into a stand near one wall.

 

As she passed Phil, she caught him looking at her and scowled.

 

“What?” she demanded.

 

“Oh,” Phil gulped. “I just…erm…wasn’t expecting to see you.” What did that even _mean_?

 

“I live here,” she retorted, raising her eyebrows and then brushing past him into the living room.

 

He turned just in time to catch Ian stifling a laugh. Great. He was making a great impression on Daniel’s band mates.

 

“You can set those over there,” Daniel was saying, pointing toward the opposite side of the room. Phil thought he saw a slight twinkle in his eye, but at least he wasn’t openly laughing at him.

 

Now that Phil was looking properly, he saw that there was a rug stretched out in the center of the room with a few amps and other equipment strewn across it. There was one sofa just inside the door, pulled out just a ways from the wall. Other than that, the room was empty. As Phil carefully set the two bags he held in the spot Daniel had pointed out, he noticed that the walls were covered over with old, mismatched duvets. For soundproofing, he guessed.

 

“You want a drink or something?” Mick asked him as he set down his own load of bags. “Come on,” he continued without waiting for Phil to answer.

 

So Phil followed his host into the kitchen, where he was offered a beer, which he politely declined in exchange for a glass of Ribena.

 

“I’m really sorry about last night,” Mick blurted all of a sudden as he stood beside the refrigerator with his own unopened bottle of beer in his hand. “I was totally hammered, or else I never would have done that to him.”

 

Phil offered a single, quick nod of acknowledgement. This was the third time ever that he’d spoken to this guy. He had no idea whether his words were really worth anything, but he supposed it said something, at least, that he was already on his third apology.

 

Someone started playing a guitar in the other room then, and Phil was glad for an excuse to let himself be distracted. He turned toward the sound, heading back out into the living room and across to the…practice room?…once more.

 

When he stepped inside, he saw Liza was back with her guitar in arms again, her fingers quickly working their way up and down the frets. Daniel was kneeling on the rug a ways behind her, busy setting up the stands for his drums, and Ian was nearby bent over a keyboard and some other electronic equipment that Phil didn’t have a name for.

 

“Wow, you’re really good,” Phil said, walking over to where Liza stood. She hadn’t seemed particularly impressed with him earlier, so he thought he ought to make an effort again to win her over.

 

At his words, she stopped playing, one side of her upper lip rising, and her brow lowering.

 

“Fuck off!” she growled.

 

Phil could only stand and stare at her, not sure what he’d done to inspire such a reaction. He glanced over at Daniel, but he didn’t seem to have noticed. He was busy doing something with the bass drum and a couple of pedals.

 

“I, er,” Phil started, but then Ian came to his rescue.

 

“Those were just warm-ups,” he called over his shoulder, turning away from his keyboard and coming over to point an admonishing finger toward Liza. “And be kind. He was trying to give you an honest compliment.”

 

Her gaze darted toward Phil, running up and down the length of him for a moment as though she were weighing him (and probably finding him wanting), before meeting his eyes again. Her expression had changed to one half of disgust and half of confusion.

 

“Oh,” she said and then went back to her warm-ups.

 

Phil decided that was probably enough interacting with Daniel’s bandmates for at least the next hour, so he took himself over to the couch, set himself down, and pulled out his two bright orange ear plugs. Mick materialized then, rushing over to where his own guitar sat and beginning his routine of tuning and warming up. In the back, Daniel had finished setting up his drum kit and was sat on his stool, sticks in hand, giving a couple of the drums a few experimental taps.

 

It hadn’t escaped Phil’s attention that his boyfriend had been all but ignoring him since they’d got here, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Daniel had had this focused expression on his face almost as soon as Ian had appeared at his house, and Phil thought that if he wanted to continue to get invitations to watch Daniel play, he’d probably better not distract him.

 

Instead, he sat back quietly on his sofa, glass of Ribena in one hand and ear plugs held at the ready in the other, gaze settled on his boyfriend as he delicately moved his sticks back and forth across the instruments in front of him. Phil had watched music videos on TV before and even been to a few live shows, so he assumed he had a general idea of what drumming looked like.

 

He had been leaning against the back of the sofa, comfortably taking in everyone’s rambling warm-up sounds when all of a sudden there was a crash of sound that made him jump so hard he spilled Ribena on his shorts. They’d gone straight from warm-ups into the beginning of a song. He quickly tried to play it off, setting his glass down by the couch and surreptitiously brushing at the purple stain on his thighs. No one seemed to either notice or care, as the all-consuming wave of sound continued to crash over him.

 

“Crap, crap, crap,” he muttered to himself as he fumbled to get the ear plugs in his ears. When they were at last in place, he let out a sigh of relief. They did a decent job of cutting the noise down to a bearable level.

 

Now that he no longer felt like his ears were about to bleed, he was able to focus on the musicians before him again, and wow, yeah, he could definitely see the difference between what Liza’s fingers were doing to her guitar strings now and what they had been doing before. Mick was hunched over his own guitar, or rather, Phil reminded himself, bass guitar, fingers moving frantically over the strings. Ian kept flipping switches and moving controls up and down on one of the devices in front of him or playing a chord or two on the keyboard or leaning into his microphone to sing a few wordless notes.

 

Phil didn’t bother looking at the three of them for long, though, because, as amazing as he was sure they were, they weren’t who he was really here to see.

 

In the back, Daniel sat on his stool, looking relaxed but with his head bent slightly forward in that same, listening expression Phil had come to recognize as a sign that he was really into whatever he was doing. Phil tried to focus on the movements of his hands, but first they were over here playing little triplets on one drum and a cymbal and then they were over there playing some insanely fast string of beats on a completely different drum while somehow also managing to occasionally hit a different cymbal, and it took Phil at least three minutes to realize that he was, in fact, playing the bass drum the entire time with his feet as well.

 

Phil’s jaw almost dropped. He’d figured Daniel was good (well, at the very least, he had known he was good with his hands), but he hadn’t been prepared to discover that he was capable of what Phil would unironically describe as god-like speed on the drums.

 

Fuck, his boyfriend was hot.

 

Contrary to Daniel’s suggestion that he might find the practice boring, for the next hour or so, he found himself enthralled watching Daniel play. It was unfortunate, he realized, that he knew next to nothing about music, especially heavy metal. It took all of his concentration to sort out the various sounds that Daniel’s percussion instruments were making from the blend of distorted sounds made by the guitars and the various samples and synthesizer noises Ian occasionally added in along with his voice.

 

As for the music itself…Phil didn’t exactly love it, but he didn’t hate it either. Ian’s voice was versatile, to say the least, apparently capable of melodically crooning one set of lyrics before screaming the next, and Liza would sometimes harmonize with him in this weirdly high descant that gave the music an eerie, otherworldly quality. He couldn’t understand most of the lyrics enough to really get what the songs were _about_ , but he couldn’t deny that they at least had atmosphere.

 

Often they would get halfway through a song before Ian would wave a hand, and everyone would stop so that he could point out that Mick’s timing was off or that he thought Liza should try a different harmony. Eventually, one of these breaks lingered for long enough that Liza, apparently bored with whatever Ian was going over with Mick, pulled out a cigarette and started to light it.

 

“Wait!” Daniel suddenly yelled and then dashed out from behind his drum kit to physically prevent Liza’s hand from raising the lighter to the cigarette between her lips.

 

She gave him a look like she thought he must be off his rocker, but he just nodded toward Phil and then told her, “Outside.”

 

She shot Phil a glare as Daniel dragged her out of the room, and Phil tried to sink down as low as possible on the sofa, hoping it would make him less conspicuous. So, apparently Liza was just going to hate him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

“Don’t worry. She likes you,” came Ian’s voice, and Phil started. He raised his eyes to see the vocalist flop down and stretch himself across the opposite end of the sofa, hands tucked behind his head.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Phil muttered. Mick seemed to have disappeared, so it was just Phil and Ian in the room now.

 

“No, I am,” Ian continued, wiggling around a bit until he was comfortable. His shirt had ridden up just a bit, and Phil could make out some very well-defined abs. “She likes you for the same reason we all like you.”

 

Phil raised an eyebrow, waiting for the singer to explain himself.

 

“Because of Daniel?” Ian prompted, but when Phil just kept staring at him, he continued. “Your boy there’s been in our band, what, a year now?” Ian said, casting a glance up toward the ceiling. “And we like him…quite a lot actually.” His smile deepened as he turned his gaze back toward Phil.

 

Phil frowned and narrowed his eyes.

 

“Not like that,” Ian laughed. “I, personally, happen to be straight as an arrow. No, what I mean is, he’s stuck with us for a year now, and in that time we’ve watched him date seven…no…eight?” He paused, his lips moving slightly as though he were reciting a list to himself. “Yeah, eight different people. Two weeks here, two months there.” He shrugged and offered Phil a wry smile. “None of his relationships ever last.”

 

Phil felt heat rising in his cheeks, and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

 

“Oh,” he said.

 

“Shut up.” Ian waved a lazy hand at him. “I’m not done yet. What I’m saying is, he’s never happy in relationships.” His lips curved down in a frown for a moment. “Never seems able to just relax and enjoy it, you know?” And then he shrugged. “But he seems happy with you.”

 

Oh. 

 

Phil bit his lip, resisting the smile threatening to curl up the corners of his mouth.

 

“Well…I’m happy, too,” he managed at last, unable to meet Ian’s eyes and focusing on a loose thread sticking out from the seam of his shorts instead.

 

“Good. Just don’t let him fuck it up,” he heard the other man mutter. Their conversation was interrupted then by the sounds of Liza and Daniel bickering outside, so Ian jumped up from the sofa, stretched his arms over his head, and said loudly, “Gotta take a leak.”

 

Phil was so distracted trying to look like he hadn’t just been discussing Daniel with his bandmate, that he didn’t notice the pointed glances Liza was shooting at his boyfriend and the way that Daniel was ducking his head so he didn’t have to meet her piercing gaze.

 

By the time Phil looked up from his knees, Daniel was already dropping onto the sofa next to him and sliding his hand into Phil’s, and when Phil raised his eyes to Daniel’s face, the other boy leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss that made Phil forget for at least thirty seconds that there were other people around.

 

“Bored yet?” Daniel murmured when he pulled away at last.

 

“Huh? Oh, no. You play amazing.” Phil’s tone was distracted, his thoughts still focused somewhere in the region of his boyfriend’s upper lip.

 

“Good,” Daniel chuckled and then leaned in to press his mouth against Phil’s once again.

 

“Oi, oi, oi! None of that in here!” Ian’s voice interrupted them before they could properly get started again. Phil tried to pull back, embarrassed now that he remembered they had an audience, but Daniel followed him, keeping their lips locked together for several more defiant seconds. “Come on, you horny little fuckers, we’re starting again,” Ian called, and Daniel pulled back at last, holding up two fingers toward the other in a rude gesture.

 

Somewhere toward the end of the second hour, Phil finally did start getting bored. If they’d just been playing songs straight through, one after the other like a concert, he probably would have been fine, but after they played the intro to the same song for the fifth time in a row trying to get the timing right, Phil discovered he was bouncing his knee with impatience.

 

He found it incredible, really, that sweaty and exhausted as they all looked, none of the members of LSD seemed at all like they were losing interest in the practice session. On the contrary, the little stops and starts as they discussed their mistakes and how to correct them only seemed to increase the intensity of their focus. Phil was almost in awe. He’d never been around people who seemed to _care_ about something so fiercely.

 

Eventually they stopped for another longer break, and Mick, apparently having caught on to Phil’s flagging interest, suggested he might try and see what was on TV in the living room.

 

“Actually,” Phil returned, rising from the sofa with a sheepish grin, “would you mind if I played something on your N64 instead?”

 

“It’s my N64,” Liza cut in then, standing up from resting her guitar in its stand, “and, yes, you can use it, BUT it’s brand new, and so help me, if you break anything—”

 

“I won’t,” Phil rushed to assure her. He was pretty sure whatever she was about to threaten would have haunted his dreams for days afterward if he’d let her finish. “Erm, thanks.”

 

It turned out Liza didn’t have a ton of games for the N64 yet, so after a couple of levels of _Super Mario_ , he switched over to her SNES instead and happily played _Secret of Mana_ until around 6:30 when the band practice finally ended and Daniel came looking for him.

 

“What’s this?” Daniel asked, collapsing beside him and stretching full out on the carpet. Phil paused the game and looked over to see that Daniel looked absolutely spent. His t-shirt was soaked in sweat, and there were little drops of it gathered all along his forehead. His eyes had gone all hazy and unfocused.

 

“Another game you should let me teach you how to play someday,” Phil answered.

 

“Okay,” Daniel said, but the word came out as a yawn.

 

“Sounds like it’s your bed time,” Phil said, quitting the game and then leaning over to switch off the console. When he glanced back over at Daniel, the other boy wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

 

“Only if you come with me,” he murmured.

 

“Please stop,” came a voice from just behind them, and Phil turned to find Liza stood there with her hands on her hips. She was so short that even thought she was standing and he was sitting, he didn’t have far to look up to meet her eyes. “This is my living room, and I will not tolerate any of your disgusting displays of affection here.”

 

Phil started to shrink back, but then he heard Daniel let out a snort of laughter.

 

“Oh, please. You’ve seen me do worse, and you know it.”

 

She rolled her eyes, but Phil could see now that there was a tiny smirk lifting the corner of her lips. So, she wasn’t really mad after all?

 

“Go home. I’m tired,” she muttered.

 

“Fine, fine,” Daniel replied, pushing himself up off the floor with an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, Phil. We know when we’re not wanted.”

 

Phil scrambled to his feet as well, feeling awkward now that he was towering over the diminutive, angry guitarist. She wasn’t looking at him, though. Instead, her eyes had narrowed and were fixed on Daniel’s face.

 

“Don’t forget what I said,” she told him and then turned and walked away.

 

Phil thought he saw a flush of pink coloring Daniel’s pale cheeks, but then Ian called to them from the doorway, and Daniel strode off before Phil could get a closer look.

 

The ride home was quiet, probably because Ian and Daniel were both exhausted from their practice session. At least Daniel had turned down the front seat so that he could join Phil in the back, where he took hold of Phil’s hand and pulled their clasped hands over to rest on his lap before laying his head against Phil’s shoulder and sighing in contentment.

 

It was nice to be together like that, not talking or making out or doing anything, but just sort of existing together. Like, there were so many unanswered questions about their relationship chasing each other around the inside of Phil’s head, but for the moment, he knew that Daniel loved him and that he loved Daniel, and loving him didn’t have to mean anything more than sitting next to him in this dark van and holding his hand. Their relationship didn’t have to have any meaning beyond the present moment, beyond the feeling of Daniel’s palm against his and his cheek against Phil’s shoulder. And what Phil didn’t know was that thinking about the moment that way, assigning significance to its insignificance would solidify it in his memory for years to come as a thing to be taken out and wondered at every now and then.

 

When Ian had helped them carry all the drums up to Daniel’s room again and waved them a tired good-bye, Phil found himself accosted by his boyfriend, who seemed intent on exploring every inch of Phil’s neck with lips while his fingers slid their stealthy way beneath the waistline of his shorts. Honestly, where did he even find the energy?

 

“Daniel,” Phil sighed, wondering internally just how big of an idiot he was for what he was about to do, “I should probably be getting home now.”

 

“Nooo,” Daniel moaned against his neck, though his hands moved away from Phil’s shorts and up to his arms instead. “Don’t go yet.”

 

“Mmmm,” Phil said and then gave his head a little shake to stop himself thinking about the heat that Daniel’s lips were pressing into his skin, “I think I need to. My exams really aren’t all that far away now, and—“

 

That got Daniel to pull away at last, nose wrinkled up in an air of slight distaste.

 

“Oh, right, exams,” he grumbled. “I guess you need to study?” He looked up into Phil’s eyes, his expression resigned.

 

“Yeah. I’ve been out all weekend, so…yeah.” Phil shrugged. He could hear his mum’s voice in the back of his head telling him, “I trust you to do your best!” again. Really, he could probably spend another night at his boyfriend’s house and still do just fine on his exams, but… No, his mum was right. It was time to go home.

 

Daniel stepped back from him then, and turned and sat down on the floor near the side of the bed. He tilted his head up to look at Phil again and patted the floor beside him.

 

“Come here for a moment, then. There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

His words caused Phil’s heart rate to suddenly rise and prickles of sweat to break out on his palms and lower back. He walked over and sank down in front of Daniel on the floor, leaving just a couple of inches of space between their knees.

 

He tried to meet the other boy’s eyes, but Daniel tilted his head back and rested it against the edge of his mattress. He blew a large sigh out from between his lips. Without noticing he was doing so, Phil pulled his knees up and hugged them close against his chest.

 

“So, Liza kind of tricked me into giving her your phone number, and then she basically told me that if I didn’t tell you, she would,” Daniel explained to the ceiling.

 

“Tell me what?” Phil murmured against his knees.

 

“That, er, producer in Manchester, you know? The one who wants to make an album with us? So, yeah, he actually wants us to move to Manchester while we work on it.” A pause. Daniel’s eyes were still fixed on the black expanse overhead, so he didn’t see the way Phil’s head jerked up at his words. He continued speaking without even looking to see Phil’s reaction, “He’s lining up, like, shows for us to play, too, and the others are talking about getting a flat or something all together… It’d probably be for at least three or four months.”

 

_Okay_ , Phil told himself, _okay, so three or four months isn’t so long. That wouldn’t be so bad, except—_

 

“But, like, we would be leaving really soon,” Daniel was just plowing forward, not stopping for long enough for Phil to say anything. “In a couple of weeks, you know, and by the time we came back, you’d already be gone to uni.”

 

Right. Right, if all went to plan, Phil would be leaving to attend university in York in September. He hadn’t bothered thinking about that just yet because he still had to finish his exams first, and anyway September was ages away… Except, it turned out that it really wasn’t.

 

“Manchester isn’t that far, though—“ Phil began tentatively. It was a pretty long bus ride, but not so long that he couldn’t make it at least once a week over the summer…assuming he had the money for it…

 

“I’m not going anyway,” Daniel cut in then, and he tilted his chin back down to meet Phil’s gaze at last. “I haven’t told the others yet, but…I’m going to quit the band in a few days so that they can start looking for a new drummer when they get to Manchester.”

 

There was a muscle in the corner of Daniel’s jaw that rippled as he clenched his teeth together tight.

 

“You’re quitting,” Phil repeated. It wasn’t even a question because his brain hadn’t quite caught up enough yet to actually question what he was hearing.

 

“Yeah,” Daniel said, nodding once, firmly, “I honestly think the only reason they haven’t moved to Manchester permanently before this is because I’m still underage. So, if they go without me, I don’t think they’ll bother coming back.” He nodded again, and Phil wondered if the gesture was meant more for his benefit or Daniel’s. “And, ultimately, I don’t think I’m really cut out for that world anyway,” Daniel forged on, “It’s really hard for me to be around…certain situations, and anyway, I want to stay here and spend these last few months with you before you leave.”

 

Phil swallowed. He wanted that, too. He wanted that so badly that he could almost ignore all of the other reasons and the questions and worries they stirred up in his mind. Almost.

 

“But…I mean, you love playing,” he started, trying to read the tilt of Daniel’s lips and the wrinkles in his forehead, “Don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” the other boy said, and his brow cleared. “Of course I do. I’m not going to stop playing just because I’m not in LSD anymore. I just need to find a different band.”

 

He sounded so confident, and his smile was wide and bright, so why did the sight of it make Phil want to shiver like someone had just walked over his grave?

 

He didn’t know what to say to Daniel, so instead he dropped his arms from around his knees and knelt forward until he could press his lips into Daniel’s lips, and the other boy raised his arms to pull Phil in, and Phil realized he was trying to warm Daniel with his own body heat, except it wasn’t that Daniel was cold, not exactly.

 

“Take another shower with me?” Daniel whispered when they pulled apart a few moments later.

 

Phil nodded because he didn’t know what else to do.

 

The water was hot and so was the skin of Daniel’s shoulders as Phil stood behind him and trailed kisses all along them. And maybe it was the heat, and maybe it was Daniel, but when Phil finally left for his own home a long time later, his mind was so muddled he felt almost dizzy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr


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